


new little family

by civillove



Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [31]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy Scare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24701944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: anon inquired about a pregnancy scare fitting into the PWIRB universe. This is it!--fits into 'plans wrapped in rubber bands' universe but can be read alone.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1347943
Comments: 23
Kudos: 216





	new little family

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for asking anon! i can't quite seem to let this universe go either ;)

Beth lets out a long sigh, the wooden aesthetic of Rio’s loft floor digging into her lower back. At this point, she shouldn’t find it surprising that she’s ended up here given how the night’s going. It’s predominantly her fault, not being able to keep her hands to herself after a good meeting. Yeah, they _have those_ occasionally where it doesn’t end in an argument or rapid gunfire. She takes every advantage of that.

Tonight, they were good. _She_ was good. It’s not often that Rio lets her lead a meeting, mostly because they’ve found a balance and flow for handling pick-ups and drops together. But she started out by herself and Rio let her run with it, something she clearly appreciates because she felt _exhilarated_ after they were done.

Hence attempting to work her hand into his pants as he was driving and practically tearing one another apart as they walked through the doorway of his loft.

Clothes are everywhere, furniture bumped into and knocked over in his living room, and the aggravating wood digging into her lower back.

She pushes hair that’s sticking to a sheen of sweat on her forehead, turning a little to look at Rio who’s spread out next to her. He’s got his jeans down against his knees, his stomach moving up and down in a patterned motion as he breathes, one hand on his chest. He’s ridiculously beautiful like this, in the bare minimum light of his place, a soft blue glow kissing his tattoos—hard lines and soft skin.

“I think this is a record,” He says after a moment, voice warm and sated, “Makin’ it to the living room.”

She purses her lips, considering him for a moment. “Definitely further than the hallway. Kitchen doesn’t count?”

“Nah,” He shakes his head, “Closer to the door even though it’s a separate space.”

Beth hums, too tired to argue and shifts a little against the etching of the hardwood. “I really hate your floor.”

“When I picked it out I didn’t picture havin’ sex on it,” He smiles a little, licking his lips. “My bad, ma.”

“Big mistake on your part,” Beth manages to grab her shirt which is under the couch.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you’d just be on top when you know the floor fucks with your back,” Rio muses, finally sitting up.

“I’ll look into throw rugs the next time I go to Target.” And bites her tongue on saying she _enjoys_ Rio driving into her on the hardwood floor, that the pinch of the wood against her spine adds another layer of pleasure that makes her nerves feel electric.

She’s pretty sure he already knows anyways.

He pulls himself up and off the floor, pulling his jeans up before he reaches out to help her. Beth grabs onto the touch, wincing just slightly before she’s standing as well and tugging her shirt over her head. She doesn’t bother with her bra or her jeans, scooping up her underwear to carry them into Rio’s bedroom.

She drops them on the bed, stopping in the bathroom to clean herself up. Grabbing a washcloth, she washes her face before paying special close attention to the skin of her thighs and cunt, tossing it towards the hamper when she’s finished. She leans against the counter, grabbing lotion that she keeps there and squeezes a coin sized amount to work into the skin of her face and neck.

Rio slips in behind her, his arms finding their way around her waist before pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Sometimes, when she looks at herself in the mirror, it’s hard to see the person she once was. And maybe she’s not that anymore; a dutiful wife, a housemaid, a mother, a smaller, weaker version of herself. This thing with Rio has changed her; her relationship, her business, her _value,_ and Beth reasons that it’s okay not to recognize the person in the mirror.

She’s changed in the best ways, even if that means parts of her are stained and manipulated beyond repair, but she wouldn’t go back for anything in the world.

Sometimes though, she manages to catch a glimpse of her eyes being the same but it’s gone almost as soon as it appears.

“You were a little pushy with the buyers tonight,” Rio says, remnants of leftover business since they didn’t have a chance to talk when they got to the car.

She watches him through the reflection, her eyes tracing the lines of his bird tattoo, “I know we can deliver.”

“I’m sure we can too but we got no product to show ‘em yet,” He rests his hand flat against her stomach, sinking lower, his thumb brushing up and under her t-shirt, “How confident are you in your abilities?”

Beth hums softly, her eyes ticking to his hand, “That card place we’ve been checking out? It has an old-fashioned printing press. I’ve already taken a few classes on how to use it. All we need to figure out now is the dye job.”

Despite rolling around in his living room, a ball of heat starts curling low in her belly as Rio’s fingers move below her shirt, brushing overtop heated and naked flesh. Not quite teasing, not yet, it’s lazy and familiar instead.

“I can deliver,” Beth says, utter confidence in her voice despite her legs opening slightly to accommodate him. She leans further against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. Rio dips his chin, lips pressing along the column of her throat. “Our clients just need to be patient.”

“What if I told you,” Rio separates her folds with two fingers, the chill of his metal ring causing a wave of pleasure to work up her spine, “That you needed to be patient right now? Think you would be?”

Beth swallows a moan as his thumb brushes her clit, fingers sliding deeper and she’s already so wet just from his presence alone, his voice in her ear. She lets out a slow breath, rolling her hips, greedy for his touch,

“Probably for a little.” She says and he smirks, kissing her neck before he turns her around and lifts her up onto his bathroom counter.

Rio slips easily between her legs, his hand stroking the inside of her thigh as he steals a kiss. A soft moan leaves his throat when Beth bites down on his lower lip. He doesn’t have to do much to work her up, one finger in and out before adding another, creating a pace with his wrist.

“People don’t like to be kept waiting,” He tells her, speaks against her mouth, “When you ask for patience, you’re askin’ for someone’s surrender.”

Beth knows what he’s doing before she even has a chance to think about it. At this point in their relationship they understand one another so well, Rio knows exactly how to throw her over the edge. But he’s taking his time, working her up, making her hips move and body tremble as he teases her—highlighting the emphasis of his words.

“You need to figure this printing press shit out and soon, aight?” Rio asks, voice as smooth as honey, kissing mapped out along her jawline and below her ear.

Beth moans, her head tipping back slightly, trying to angle her body to hit her sweet spots with his fingers inside of her—but he is very purposely keeping her hanging on by a thread. He pulls his hand back suddenly, his thumb circling her clit and gaining her attention like a cold bucket of water.

“Imma need to hear you say it.”

She considers hitting him but grinds her heels into the ground, fixing him with a look before leaning forward and nipping his lower lip. “I’ll get it done.”

“That’s ma girl,” He praises and kisses her before returning to his administrations.

Beth falls apart quickly and loudly, her voice echoing against the confines of his bathroom.

\--

It takes her two solid weeks to figure out this printing press thing, which, she’s still not sure she has the right color combination down but at least she’s got a willing participant to make the plate and a day job at this card shop to work as a nice front once everything is ready. She’s made a few test five-dollar bills and they aren’t that too bad. A few adjustments need to be made but she was expecting that—so she feels confident to reach out to their client to at least let them know the headway she’s making.

Because Rio’s right; people don’t like waiting for anything, especially when you tell them to be patient about it too.

Beth sighs as she pushes her shoulder against her bedroom door, setting her purse down onto her bed. She digs out her calendar that has mismatched post-its and color coordinated agenda items dedicated to her home life, her kid’s school, activities and events _and_ her business all in one place. She scans the weeks and trails her fingers over the dates, trying to figure out what’ll work best to meet the client…

And pauses because, wait.

Her hand stops over a red dot in the corner of a Wednesday. A Wednesday that was a week ago and wait a minute, _what?_

“That can’t…” She trails off to herself, squinting at the date as she pulls out her cellphone to double check but a large pit appears in her stomach, a black hole threatening to swallow her whole because…

She hates that she’s right but that red dot Wednesday was a week ago. Her period is a week and two days late and she shakes her head, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach because no, that’s…that’s not possible. She has to have her dates mixed up somewhere. Her body works like clockwork and even though her and Rio don’t always use condoms, she’s got a regiment with the morning after pill.

She does not forget to do that, not ever.

Beth takes a step back from the calendar and reminds herself to breathe, one deep lungful in and out as she wanders into the bathroom. Okay, there has to be a rational explanation for this and it’s _not_ because she’s pregnant. She knows that there’s always that _slim_ chance, that the morning after pill works eighty-seven percent of the time and suddenly thirteen percent has never felt like such a giant, gaping number.

_Fuck._

Beth takes out her cell phone and turns to lean against her sink, sending a 911 text to Annie. Her sister calls instead of texting back and she stares at the contact picture of them both on her screen for a long moment before she swipes to pick up.

“What’re you dying?” Annie asks, mouth full from something she’s eating.

Beth closes her eyes for a moment, trying to wrangle the words out of her throat. “I think I’m pregnant.”

There’s a clattering on the other end, a pot falling into a sink maybe? “Shit, for real? Is it gang friend’s?”

“Who _else_ would it be, Annie?” She nearly screeches because _how_ is that the first thing she even asks?

Annie huffs, “Well _excuse_ me, alright? You’re acting like you weren’t sleeping with Rio while being married to Dean, how am I supposed to know what you’re doing while you’re dating Rio?”

And that…observation is somehow so incredibly unfair because she wasn’t _happy_ with Dean. Yeah, she’s got a twisted and confusing and messy past thanks for her ex being a certified jackass, but she’s…it’s not like that with Rio. Does Beth really have to explain that to her? After all this time?

She bites down on the inside of her cheek for a long moment. “If I am, of course it’s his.”

There’s the sound of fabric swishing and she wonders if Annie is sitting onto her couch or crawling into bed, “Shit yeah of course, sorry. You just caught me off guard, okay? I didn’t mean to…”

Beth swallows and shakes her head, even though she can’t see her. “I know, it’s fine.” The palm of her hand digs into the counter of her sink before she allows herself to descend to the floor, spreading her legs out in front of her.

“Did you take a test?”

“No, but I’m never late. Never, unless—”

“Look, I’m sure it’s just stress then, right?” She interrupts, “Shit happens.”

“I can’t have another baby,” Beth says suddenly, her nerves working up from her stomach and nearly choking her throat.

“Dean has about as many great qualities as a can of beans but I was at _least_ thinking his sperm was the only good thing about him. Like you got some great kids—now I’m wondering if it wasn’t him after all, you’re just fucking fertile like the Garden of Eden.”

“I don’t _want_ another baby, Annie.” She practically snaps even though she doesn’t mean to, raw emotion cloaking her words and making her voice shake.

Her sister is quiet on the other end, the conversation gently halted as Annie feels the shift in her mood. More times than not, Beth enjoys the comic relief—right now is not one of those times. A sense of panic feels like it might overwhelm her, drag her to the depths of worrying that she can’t quite escape until she knows for sure.

“Beth, relax,” Annie says gently, her tone automatically changing, “You said it yourself, you didn’t even take a test. Maybe it’s really just about being late.”

She runs a hand over her face, wondering what this must sound like. She loves being a mom but…starting a brand-new family? That is _not_ what she thought the cards had in store for her. 

“Just…do yourself a favor,” Beth can hear the small smile in Annie’s voice as she speaks, “Take the day to relax. Crack open a bottle of wine, watch shitty movies on Netflix and order pizza.”

Beth chews on her lower lip before nodding her head, moving to stand up from her bathroom floor even though her knees feel like bowls of jello.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” She mumbles after a moment. “Relaxing sounds good.”

Annie pauses and Beth can already tell she’s considering saying something, one last jab and her eyes nearly roll back into her head as she says it. “Or maybe no wine at all for you, mama.”

“Fuck you,” Beth says back but there’s no heat in her voice, a tilt to the end of her words in gentle amusement.

Annie ends up laughing and Beth does too, leftover panic leaving her body as she turns the sink on to splash her face.

\--

Beth takes Annie’s advice about relaxing but then dives back into work when she gets a text from Rio asking about progress. She takes a few extra shifts at the card shop, making sure she ends up in the back to observe the machine at work and playing around with dyes on the paper. She keeps herself busy so she doesn’t have to think about it even though her body starts playing tricks on her with phantom bloating and cramps and this is _so_ ridiculous.

She’s not nineteen anymore trying to shove in a quickie with her boyfriend before they get caught by an adult.

She needs to start insisting on condoms even though that might kill whatever mood her and Rio are in when they’re in the midst of things. It’s not like Rio would ever say no, it’s not _that_ big of a deal to be prepared. If anything it’s so she doesn’t have to go through moments like this where she’s so sure of being unsure that she’s driving herself a little crazy.

Annie’s right, this probably has everything to do with stress.

Rio’s been texting her about the dyes but he’s also dropping hints that he wants to see her, something she easily avoids by concentrating on her work. She knows she can’t ignore him forever, that he’ll pop into her life like he always does and her nerves begin eating at her muscles and bones because…they’re not _like this_ anymore. She doesn’t keep things from him.

But there’s this precipice that Beth feels like she’s standing at, one step away from falling in, one decision away from everything she’s worked so hard for changing. And she can’t bear to look into Rio’s eyes and watch his expression change.

She’s worried he’ll be as disappointed as she feels.

\--

She gets her period one day later but still doesn’t text Rio back.

\--

Beth makes sure to text her sister that it was a false alarm with little bell emojis hugging her words. Annie texts back a thumbs up and she feels a gentle smile tug the corners of her mouth as she wanders into her kitchen to make a bowl of popcorn. Regardless of how well she thought she knew her body, she’s definitely taking this as a message from the universe in being more careful.

She sets her phone down on the table and taps the screen a little absently as she puts the popcorn in the microwave, listening for the kernels to start erupting. Beth knows she should text Rio back, at least to address the last few about coming over to spend time with Marcus. Guilt begins to worm its way into her stomach and up her chest, lacing throughout her ribcage—it’s one thing to ignore Rio, it’s another to let down his son.

Beth licks her lips and begins to draw up a message, watching the blinking cursor begin to mock her as she’s not sure what to say and then her microwave beeps that the popcorn is ready. She grabs a bowl from the dishwasher and carefully opens the streaming bag, pouring it. She turns to pick up her phone and take everything into the living room—

“Is there a reason you’re avoidin’ me?”

Beth nearly jumps out of her skin, just managing to put the bowl of popcorn down onto the counter even though a few kernels sail through the sky to land on the floor. Rio just raises an eyebrow as she puts a hand over her chest, glaring at him as he leans against the doorframe that leads into her dining room.

“You could at least _warn me_ before you talk.” And since when does he come through her front door?

“Because showin’ up unannounced is so unlike me.” He presses, amusement clearly in his voice even though she’s not looking at him anymore.

She rolls her eyes and kneels down to scoop up popcorn to throw away and when she stands back up, he’s closer, leaning against her kitchen counter. Her eyes flutter over the blue jean jacket he’s in, the color of ocean waves and it’s _so_ unlike him that she nearly asks where all his black is. But it’s nice, it brings out the subtle hues of navy that seem to be in the bird feathers of his tattoo.

The t-shirt he’s wearing underneath is black, at least, so she tries to grind herself into that sense of normalcy even though she knows what he’s about to bring up.

“I texted you about going to our bar—”

She shakes her head, trying to wave him off, “I’m just not in the mood to drink.”

He nods, unphased, “And then about that Italian place you like.”

Beth squints, like she’s trying to place what he’s talking about. “It’s…not my favorite or anything.”

“Says the nine times you’ve insisted on goin’ there.”

“Nine seems like a little high.”

“You don’t want to drink or eat with me, startin’ to feel a little offended.” And it’s there, she can hear it, the small ounce of concern that’s wrapped around his teasing.

She has no idea why it seems to dig under her skin but it does nonetheless and a soft scoffing sound leaves her lips, “Since when did you become so clingy?”

Rio lets that comment roll off his shoulders, taking a step towards her and not letting her back up from his space. His arms create a cage, pressing her into the counter, gently leaning forward so that she doesn’t have anywhere to go.

“And usually, I’d let it go.” He gently grasps her chin, forcing her to look at him, “But when Marcus asked you to come over and you still didn’t say anything…”

He trails off, letting her run with it and she swallows, that same guilt that’s in her ribcage starting to clog her throat.

“So you gonna tell me what’s wrong or do I have to guess? You’ve been off since that job at the card store.”

And as well as Rio’s able to read her, he doesn’t see it, he doesn’t get it. She’s going to have to tell him. He’s in the right book but not on the right page. It’s not about the meeting at the card store…but what happened after.

For the second time, Rio misreads her, “Look, we’re bound to make waves again, I told you that. We got our ear to the ground, it’s not gonna be another Veto situation—”

“I thought I was pregnant.”

There’s an exact moment where Rio pauses, jaw working as he holds words behind his teeth because out of everything he expected her to say: this was not it. His eyes wash over her, fingers digging into the counter before they rest low on her hips.

“But I’m not,” She swallows, clearing her throat. “So.”

He lets out a slow breath, not looking at her for a moment before, “You shoulda told me.”

She shrugs her one shoulder because _why?_ What would have been the point of that? Neither of them are interested in having kids—she doesn’t need to ask him to know that. It doesn’t fit into the mold of their life, in what they’re building together, in the future they’re holding. Rio’s never expressed wanting more than Marcus and Beth loves what she already has—where would a kid of theirs even fit, anyways? They’re not exactly a typical couple.

“We’re partners, yeah?” He asks her, pulling her from her thoughts, “Pretty sure you’ve given me that same talk a thousand times over.”

Beth knows what he means—they’ve been practicing an open line of communication, of confiding in one another and…honestly? She doesn’t know why she wanted to keep this from him but it happened anyways.

“Yeah, well, the next time _you_ have a pregnancy scare feel free to share that with me.”

He rolls his eyes, squeezing her hips before he draws her into his body. “Why you gotta be so stubborn?”

“I heard it’s part of my charm.”

She looks up at him, resting a hand on his chest. She can feel the pitter patter of his heartbeat beneath her fingers and she takes a calming breath into her lungs as he leans down to press a kiss to the bridge of her nose. And because he must sense that she needs it, he moves to wrap his arm around the back of her shoulders. Rio pulls her into his chest and she feels herself begin to relax, muscle by muscle and bone by bone. She rests her face against his shoulder, breathing him in, the material of his jean jacket coarse against her cheeks. Rio works his hand up and down her spine, only pulling back when she’s ready, grabbing the bowl of popcorn before she can pick it up.

“This is comin’ with us.”

She smiles a little, “Where are we going?”

“I got a boy waitin’ on you.”

\--

Beth follows Rio into his loft, a soft smile tugging the corners of her mouth when Marcus looks up from the couch. She can see he’s sitting with the neighbor next door and Rio begins to thank her as he jumps up from the couch and nearly knocks her over with a hug.

She laughs gently, her hands falling to his back as one of them threads through his hair. “I swear you get taller every time I see you.”

There’s a toothy grin thrown in her direction before he takes her hand and drags her towards the living room, “I’m making a dino terrarium, Ms. Beth. Wanna help?”

“Of course, I’m actually quite good at these.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Rio mumbles, mostly to himself but Beth smiles over her shoulder as he wanders into the kitchen.

She kneels on the ground, settling against the back of the couch to look at the supplies Marcus has. He ends up sitting on her lap, talking about the different kinds of dinos he has to put into the large glass container that’s sitting on the other side of the coffee table. Rio makes his way back into the living room and sets a cup of coffee (and her bowl of popcorn) on the floor next to her, sitting on the couch near where she’s leaning against it.

Her one arm rests on his leg and she can feel him working his fingers absently through her hair as they both listen to Marcus ramble on about the Cretaceous period. Beth smiles, pressing a kiss into the boy’s hair as she sorts through moss and rocks to help him begin gluing things together.

She lets out a slow breath, constantly reminded of the new little family she has right here.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and any comments / kudos you might leave :) appreciate it!


End file.
